


Talents

by Rumo (Triteia)



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, Feelings, M/M, Moonshadow elve, Runaan - Freeform, The dragon prince - Freeform, tdp, tinker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triteia/pseuds/Rumo
Summary: Tinker sees a beautiful elf reciting combat moves in the forest and is hopelessly lost.How Runaan met the Necklace elf from the credits.





	1. Morning Sun

The sun would take another hour to rise and still, a young moonshadow elf was already roaming the forest. He was small for his age and adjusted the grip on the handles of his spear far too often. The hilt still felt unfamiliar in his hand, night oak wood heavy in his palms.

Every moonshadow elf had mandatory combat training in their youth and almost all of them excelled at fighting in one way or another. All except for him. The studied moves felt clumsy and he was sure would anyone parry them, he wouldn’t be able to stay on his feet.

He was almost sixteen now and the trial ritual would take place during the next full moon. In order to become a valid member of his tribe, he had to pass. Failure would lead to shame for his family and exile for himself. In over a century, no elf had failed the test, most even fulfilled the tasks with such ease that they were assigned to one of Xadia’s feared Assassin squadrons who fought against humans at the border.

His strength however had always differed from the others. Since his mother was part sunfire elf, he was far more drawn to magic than weaponry.  In his own time, he often crafted enchanted amulets that could hide the wearer from view and such things. Sadly, in a race of Fighters and Assassins, craft skills didn’t belong to the things his people thought highly of.

Again and again, he recited the steps until the sun was peeking above the horizon, tinting the forest in a light orange and his body felt heavy.

The boy stopped his training to take a break on one of the rocks strewn across the clearing when he heard the faint sound of metal clinging together. He hadn’t expected to come across anyone else this early and far away from their village. For a second he thought the humans were trying to invade Xadia but quickly dismissed the thought. They were too far away from the border. Nevertheless, his curiosity won as he silently gathered his spear to seek out whoever disturbed his early training.

He followed the noise to a wide clearing where a familiar figure leaped from boulder to boulder, swinging two curved blades with practised precision. He immediately recognized the other elf as Runaan, top of his class and on the way to break every record set in the last two hundred years. He used one of his cloaking spells to carefully step closer. He charged the bracelet he wore with magical energy every night. Runaan was only a few weeks younger than him. They both were in the same class but rarely trained in the same room due to their difference of skill. He was with the less gifted elves while Runaan mostly got to participate in older classes.

Tinker was fascinated by the grace of the other elf as he fought against an imaginary foe, twisting and turning like he was made of water. His long white hair was tinted a light orange from the first rays of the morning sun. Completely focused on his exercise Runaan didn’t seem to notice his presence. The minutes passed but he couldn’t get himself to leave. Mesmerized by the fluent motions he could only dream of comparing to someday, he froze on his spot between the trees, watching silently. After a while, he noticed the sun had fully risen. His parents expected him back, soon.

With a feeling of loss, Tink silently headed back towards their house.


	2. An unlike couple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have to do a team training excercise. Runaan drags him through it and is very protective.

During the day, he observed Runaan in the classes they shared and was surprised to find him present as his group went outside to the training pit. The joy of seeing the other elf longer however soon turned to horror, when their trainer announced today’s exercise. The better students were to be partnered with a bad one for a team exercise. It started as an all against all with dull blades but should one partner be bested and therefore had to leave the fight, the other could get him back in by besting the one who struck their partner.

While Tink was completely horrified upon being partnered with Runaan, the other only seemed mildly annoyed. Runaan only ever showed emotions when absolutely necessary. Otherwise, the tall elf had a schooled look of indifference plastered on his face. When it was their turn to select a weapon from the pile of dulled blades, Runaan immediately went for the set of twin swords that were most similar to the ones he wielded in the morning. Seeing Tink struggle with a choice, he pointed at a shield and shortsword. “Take those. You are better with the sword and a shield will help you cover your weak spot on your left.” Stunned that the other had apparently taken the time to analyse his fighting skills, Tink only nodded before strapping the shield on and following his assigned partner to the field. Runaan made a beeline for one of the corners, turning towards him again once he reached his destination. “The sun comes from this direction, it will blind the others when they attack.” He nodded again, that made sense.

The edge of the training pit began to fill more and more with duos of young elves, ready to prove themselves. Tink stared at the long white hair in front of his face that was braided into a thick semi-tidy braid and wondered if the elf would hate him once the inevitable happened and they lost because of him. Probably.

Just as he was about to get lost in his spiralling thoughts, Runaan turned around and offered his hand. “I am Runaan by the way.” There was a slight smile on his face that encouraged him to answer “My Name is Tinker, I am sorry you have to put up with me. It must be annoying.” The smile wavered and turned to a frown that even reached his eyes. “Don’t sell yourself so short. We will be fine.” He said, giving the blades a few test twirls before continuing “Just stay behind me and try to not get hit. Should someone best you it’s important that you tell me who did it before leaving the field so I can get you back in before someone else puts the person out.”

He nodded a little dumbfounded and adjusted the grip on his sword. Tink absolutely didn’t expect the top of his class who usually wore an expression of mild annoyance at everything they did to encourage him. Little butterflies began to appear in his stomach area, leaving behind a warm feeling.

They disappeared however as soon as their trainer gave the signal and everyone except him and Runaan charged towards the middle of the pit. Slowly, the taller elf took a few steps into the pit but didn't move to join the rest. “What are you doing?” he whispered in Runaan's ear from his position behind his back.

“The corner is easier to defend. Let them come to us.” As soon as the sentence passed the moonshadow elve's lips, a duo of their classmates came running towards them. Tink wanted to step up next to his partner but got pushed back a little so he stood slightly behind Runaan. “You only defend, ok? The one heading for you has a weak spot over his right shoulder see if you can hit him there.” He had no time to answer before the taller elf dropped into a predatory looking fighting stance and welcomed the first attacker with a series of lightning- fast blows.

Tink had no time whatsoever to drool over his elegance before the other elf reached him. Next to him Runaan vanished behind a blurr of steel while he tried to block his attackers spear as good as possible. He even managed to get a few good hits in by targeting the right shoulder like Runaan told him to. However, the other elf was far more experienced than him and quickly gained more footing. Just as Tink felt like he’d be on his back soon, his opponent suddenly crumbled to the floor. Runaan appeared behind him, holding up one of his swords and a slight grin on his face. His hair was a little dishevelled but otherwise he looked perfectly at ease.

They continued their strategy, Tinker always standing slightly behind the taller elf and focused on defending as best as he managed and Runaan who finished his opponents quickly to aid his partner afterwards. Until the fifth fight, neither of them got thrown out of the pit what he felt like counting as a win on his side.

Slowly, the number of teams was thinning and soon there were only six teams left. Tink only barely escaped the last match where a blow to the head had almost felled him. Almost. Just as he thought to wake up with a huge headache the next day, a blade appeared in front of his face just inches from his nose and parried the blow. Next to him, he could hear Runaan grunt faintly as the spear of the attacker he had been originally dealing with found its way to his now unguarded right side. It was a quiet noise, almost not noticeable through the clashing of dulled blades. Tinker was sure the other meant to supress it but hadn’t quite managed. A sharp sting appeared in his chest. He was getting hurt because of him, because he hadn’t been fast enough.

A new determination rose inside him, moving the sword in his hands and before he knew, the elf that had been attacking him only seconds ago lay face down in the dirt with his blade on the other’s neck.

Moments later, Runaan’s opponent joined her partner on the sidelines. “Where the hell did that come from?” the elf asked, trying to get a stubborn strand of hair to stay behind his ear. Tink could only shrug while he was still staring at his own hands. Had that been him? How?

“Never mind.” Runaan turned towards the last pair who had just finished their opponents. “I get the left one. Yours has holes in her defence over her right knee and her solar plexus.” This time he didn’t wait for them to come but instead charged towards the elf he picked for himself.

He doesn’t get the time to be stunned by the sudden change before the girl running towards him swings her blade for the first blow. She was grinning, Aryna if he remembered correctly. The girl was one of the best fighters in their age group and probably thought this was a safe win. Well, she was right. Tink desperately tried to parry her rapid blows but was soon forced to hide completely behind his shield. From the corner of his eye, he could see the two others fighters moving towards them. No, not moving, Runaan was retreating in their direction to steer his opponent where he wanted to go. He looked almost absent while parrying the blows with unfaltering ease.

The short distraction cost Tinker dearly when Aryna brought him to the floor with a well-placed kick against his shield. His head hit the ground with an audible crack that send waves of nausea through his body. For a moment the world spun around him, stars appearing behind his closed eyes. He awaited the knock-out blow any second and braced himself for the impact.  
But it never came.

Instead steel clashed somewhere over him. Tink slowly blinked and opened his eyes again, shaking off the headache that was already forming in his temple. Over him, in all his grace and fury stood Runaan, wielding his double blades like an impenetrable wall separating them from their attackers. The taller elf turned for a second, quickly examining him. “Move back” he instructed before focusing his gaze back on the duo of moon elves in front of him.

He scrambled back a bit just in time to avoid getting stepped on by his partner. Aryna tried for his legs but the elf launched himself up in the air in an elegant summersault. Runaan used the energy from his fall to target the hand that was holding the blade. With a shriek, she dropped the weapon, instinctively holding her wrist. A forceful kick to the head brought her down on the floor. However her partner used his momentarily distraction to move behind Runaan. “Watch out!” Tink heard himself shout when the attacker raised his spear to hit him from behind. His partner ducked barley fast enough to avoid a hard blow to the head, the shaft instead brushing past his left horn. In a matter of seconds, Runaan was up and moving again, catching the spear between his blades with a quick turn. A sharp twist and hit with the pommel of one of his swords later, the other elf joined his partner on the floor.

Everything had happened so fast that Tink was still sitting on the ground, his shield and sword strewn across the pit. With a heavy sigh, Runaan willed the loose strands of his hair out of his face, wincing barely noticeable when the hand brushed against his horn and walked over to him.

He almost expected to be yelled at but the tall elf only held out his hand after sheathing his swords to help him up. Tink took it with a reluctant smile, getting pulled up to his feet with ease. Behind them, the male elf was still unconscious, Aryna kneeling by his side. “That was unfair!” she spat “I had him Runaan, you know that I did!”

Runaan’s eyes twinkled with anger when he left him behind to walk over to the kneeling girl. “Then clearly, you haven’t understood the term ‘team-work’.” His voice was stern and sounded like it could easily cut steel. For a moment she looked like she wanted to return something but then her partner began to move again, occupying her attention.

“Thank you, I know I was probably not of any help-“ he began but the taller elf waved him off. “It’s fine.”

They were temporarily interrupted by their trainer announcing them as winners and ordering a half an hour break, mainly because most of Runaan’s opponents were still unconscious.

“Can I at least look at you horn?” He tried again, setting the shield and sword back on the table. The other elf shook his head “I’m fine.” It was more a statement than an answer really. As if he tried to convince himself rather than Tinker. “Are you sure? That blow looked really painful. Just to make sure nothing is cracked.” Worry spread out in his chest when Runaan didn’t reply immediately but narrowed his eyes a little, focusing that piercing gaze of his on Tinker. Finally, he relaxed and dropped his shoulders a little. With a heavy sigh, he waved for him to follow. “Fine but only if you promise to let me be afterwards.”

He made a beeline for the gates of the Academy, giving Tink a hard time to catch up. “Where are you going? We could ask one of the medics to look at it.” Runaan only shook his head, eyes glued on the forest in front of him “Not here.” And suddenly, the whole emotionless-assassin-scheme the other elf was usually portraying made sense to him. If you were that good, people expected a lot and probably often forgot that he was just an elf. Tink never thought about how hard Runaan had to work to get the reputation he had.

After a few hundred metres, the taller elf stopped on a small clearing. He immediately searched for a spot mostly covered in thick moss and sat down cross-legged, looking at him expectantly. “Let’s get this over with.”

Tink approached carefully before getting down on his knees next to him. Runaan had to duck a little so he could see his head properly. The right horn lacked a few splinters where thin rays of blood trickled down into the perfectly white hair. Tinker reached out with one hand to gingerly touch the horn’s base in order to determine if it still sat firmly on the other’s skull. The moment he felt the woodlike pattern under his fingertips, he could sense the elf stiffening under him. Fingers coiling up into fists and flexing his, admittedly impressive, forearms. He was definitely in pain. “Sorry.” He mumbled “Does that hurt?” He knew Runaan was about to say no when the elf’s shoulders suddenly dropped in defeat. “A little?”

A little my ass. Tinker thought, rummaging through the pouches on his belt until he found what he was looking for. A small moonstone amulet appeared in his hand that he crushed between his fingers, silently singing the enchantment he stored inside it. Afterwards he blew the dust on Runaan’s head waiting for the magic to do its work.

The elf slowly reached back to touch his horn and surrounding head “What was that?” he asked seemingly stunned to find the pain suddenly absent.

“Just a little healing enchantment I experimented with recently. It can’t heal any severe wounds and the horn will probably be sore for the next few days but the cracks are closed.”

“Wow, thank you. You can do that?” Runaan turned towards him with a flicker of couriousity in his eyes. He felt himself blush and quickly looked away. “It’s no big deal really. Thank you for sparing me a giant headache by the way.” The other elf chuckled and patted the moss next to him “I guess we’re even then.” After sitting down Tink had to smile, too. “Seems so.”

They sat together in comfortable silence for a good long while before Runaan blew frustrated at a strand of white hair that kept falling into his eyes. When he moved to untie his braid and redo it, Tink gestured for him to turn around. “Here let me.” To his surprise, the elf really shuffled on his place until his back was facing him without further protest. Not sure what to with the newfound trust, he carefully freed the silky white hair from the now pretty untidy braid and ran his hands through it to untangle the numerous little knots. “Why do you keep it so long if it annoys you?” he asked, now occupied with the task of finding a suitable hairstyle.

He kept his own hair always semi-short cropped so it wouldn’t always fall into his eyes while working on his crafts. Under his hands, Runaan shrugged. “I guess I like it that way. Usually it’s fine but I didn’t really had time to it properly today so some of the hair keeps falling out.” He hummed in agreement “It’s nice.” His mother had long dark brown hair that he loved to braid but while her hair was thicker and sturdy, Runaan’s felt like fine silk between his fingers.

He finally decided to start a braid at the top of his head and tied it at the height of the other’s shoulders with one of the enchanted hairbands from his pouch. The hair continued for another hand wide but Tink found it looked nicer only halfway braided. Admiring his work, he reached for one of the two strands he’d left loose on either side of Runaan’s temple. He found two thin matching decorative hair ties made from steel and fastened them at the bottom of each strand to keep them from straying around. The hair wasn’t as long there so the little tubes just reached his chin with their bottom edge.

Tinker sat in front of the now smiling elf and admired his work, or Runaan really.

Carefully, the other reached up to feel the structure of the new braid and thoroughly examined the new decorations he had installed. “Thank you.” Runaan said, smiling at one of the hair ties in his hand.

He knew he was falling too hard too fast but Tink couldn’t help liking the warm feeling that rose in his stomach at the sight of his crush admiring something he’d made while the sun speckled his body with little light dots.


	3. Friends and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Runaan leaves and gets back from a mission. Tinker is anxious.

A few weeks after, Runaan was called off for an important mission. A huge honour, considering his age. They had both passed the trial a couple of days prior. Runaan with flying colours and a new record time and Tinker magically managed to not come last. The combat lessons Runaan had given him were more effective than he thought.

Despite the joy he felt for the elf he now was proud to call a friend at least, the sting of loss was apparent. When Tink gave him one of his creations that could replicate the healing spell as a parting gift the night before their departure, he had a hard time fighting back tears.

In his mind he knew Runaan was good. Very good. But the small nagging voice in his head grew louder and louder the nearer the hour of goodbye came. He couldn’t suppress a whispered “Be careful.” when he handed him the little enchanted bracelet. The tall elf nodded with a small smile “Of course. Thank you, I hope I won’t need it.” With that, he turned and joined the rest of his group to prepare for the next morning.

A small smile appeared on his face when Tinker realised he kept the hairstyle he’s made the other elf that day in the forest. Even the decorative hair ties were the same. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how young his friend looked, standing there between the most praised assassins of whole Xadia. They all had a good fifteen to twenty years of experience on him and Tink hoped they would use it to protect the youngest among them.

The weeks passed and he got more and more worried for Runaan. Meanwhile, Tinker had started an apprenticeship with the local jewellery and sword smith. He loved the work and found his natural talent exceeded the limited tools he had at home, soon. Varou, his mentor gave him every opportunity to try new things and experiment. He even had some customers already who regularly commissioned enchanted trinkets either as a gift or to take on missions. His days were usually busy but at night when he was alone in his own bed, the thoughts spiralling in his head wouldn’t leave him alone.

The giant leap his hear made once the bells announced the return of Runaan’s group was gigantic. It was late afternoon almost five weeks after they left and he was on his way home from an exhausting day at work, when he heard the familiar melody. Without a second thought, he raced towards the assembly place where he knew the group would most likely be found. He skirted to a halt once the familiar long white hair came into view. Amidst the stern but tired looking Assassins stood Runaan, back ramrod straight as his Leader informed the council about their mission. Upon seeing his unharmed, Tink released a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding. Apparently everything went well, all four targets were put down and none of the elves sported any major injuries. He patiently waited until the assassins were released and Runaan came walking towards him once he spotted him at the edge of the crowd.

“I’m glad you are back.” Tinker started with a smile once his friend reached him. “I was a little worried that you took so long.” The other elf looked down at him with a slight smirk “I told you it would be fine.” Although Runaan seemed to be genuinely happy to see him, there was a certain pain in his expression Tink couldn’t quite place. “Do you, uh, have to be somewhere tonight?” the assassin examined his boots thoroughly before starting again “I mean, um, would you like to do something? We haven’t seen each other in a while I am sure there is a lot I have to catch up on.”

For a second, Tink’s heart threatened to just stop beating altogether. He just came back and the first thing he wanted to do was spent time with him. Him of all people? “I would love to but don’t you have a family that’s waiting for you?” Surely his parents were already expecting him back. “I um-“ Runaan started, fumbling with his braid “-yeah I, I should go.” He looked so put out that Tink reconsidered his response. His usually stern face was a circus of emotions, everything flickering over the elegant features for a split seconds and disappearing again. When Runaan turned to leave, he reached out to grab his wrist “Wait! How about tomorrow? I have to work until about five but afterwards we could meet up at the old well in the forest.” The lack of a reaction disturbed him slightly, and he quickly let go of the other’s arm “If you like that is?” he added in a faint attempt for a response. The tall elf blinked a few times, exhaustion now evident in his turquoise eyes “Yeah, I would like that. See you tomorrow.”

The next day, Tink hurried back from the workshop to be on time. A customer came in in the last second so he couldn't leave earlier.

When he reached the spot they were supposed to meet, Runaan was already there, sitting on the stone wall of the well, feet dangling in the air. Contrary to his combat uniform yesterday, he now wore a very form fitting undershirt and wide flowing pants that danced in the wind. His hair was open and flowed down his shoulders like a shimmering waterfall, making him look like an otherworldly creature.

Tink stopped in his tracks, staring until the other turned towards him. “Hey, um - sorry I'm late.” 

Runaan just smiled gesturing for him to join him on the wall. “You're not I was just early.” Upon closer, he looked even more tired than yesterday. Deep dark circles surrounded the otherwise sparkling eyes that now had lost their shimmer. He spotted a few bruises along his arms and shoulders where the assassin probably parried an enemy’s blow.

Runaan shifted a little uncomfortably under his gaze, looking ahead into the forest before turning to face him. “So? What happened while I was gone?”

Tinker gave a brief summary of what happened in their village and then explained how he'd started the apprenticeship and was now working at Varou's shop. Runaan hummed in agreement every once in a while but otherwise seemed content with simply listening.

Finally, when he found he had nothing more to tell Tink looked at the other apologetically “I would ask you about your mission but I know you are probably not allowed to talk about it, right?”

Runaan nodded, a sudden pain in his eyes “Yes, I've sworn an oath to keep it to myself. Maybe I will even have to leave again, soon. The council has already issued another order.” The statement made Tink pause for a moment. Last he knew the other hadn’t been an official part of the dark squadron yet. When expected to leave on a mission again it could only mean he now was one of them. At only sixteen that would make him the youngest elf ever to be allowed a place in the ranks of Xadia’s elite forces. “So they made you one of them? That’s great! Your parents must be so proud of you.” The pain in Runaa’s eyes changed to cold emptiness so fast it made Tinker shiver.

It took a while before the other spoke, eyes fixed on his hands where he fiddled with the bracelet Tink had given him. “I um, I don’t have any. Not anymore that is.”

Suddenly, the events from last night came back, making him feel sick. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” He desperately wanted to hug the other elf but didn’t know if it was a welcome gesture.

“It’s okay, they died an honourable death, defending Xadia. Their border patrol got ambushed by humans three years ago. They both stayed behind so others could escape with the Intel they gathered.” Slowly, the life came back into his eyes, a small sad smile forming on his lips.  “I’m still sorry.” Tink finally said, gently squeezing the other’s shoulder. They sat in silence until the sun was completely absent from the dark sky. Simply enjoying each other’s presence.

“I should go.” Runaan finally stated and hopped down from his spot on the well. “I have training tomorrow morning.” Nodding, Tink also stood, collecting the bag he’s placed on the grass upon arriving. “It was nice to see you again.”   
“Yeah, yeah it was.” Runaan agreed, turning in the direction of his house “Maybe we can meet again later this week?” the question sounded so hopeful, Tinkers heart skipped a beat or two. He grinned at the other elf “Definitely”.

That night, Runaan couldn’t find sleep. Just as the other nights before, the terrified faces of his victims floated through his mind as soon as he closed his eyes. Every time he tried to think of something else, Tinker appeared with his handsome features and gentle eyes.

With a sigh, he got up again, reaching for one of his training shirts and made his way downstairs. Two years ago he’d redecorated the large living area and now stood in an almost empty room that sported targets and dummies strewn aligned along the walls. The ceiling was covered in different sized handles and gaps so one could move from one side of the room to the other. Ever since his parents died, he never really had guests and figured to put the living area in better use.

Now, he jumped to grab one of the bars for a few pull-ups before he picked up his bow and nocked the first arrow. Runaan shot until his arms quivered, exhaustion sitting deep in his bones, after setting the weapon aside, he drifted in an exhaustion induced sleep on the couch, the only piece of furniture he had kept.

A few hours later the first rays of sunshine awoke him way to early and he realized he would probably be late for training if he didn’t hurry. He didn’t bother with eating but only pinned his hair back in haste and dressed in fresh clothes before grabbing his twin swords and rushing out the door.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagined his parents died when he was 13, leaving him their house and possesions. Since in my AU he has no other close relatives, he lives there alone.   
> Maybe we will see Tinker visiting him soon?


	4. Two can play a game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both have feelings for each other but are either too shy (Tinker) or too stubborn (Runaan) to do something about it. The elves around them find it amusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few changes of POV. I hope it's understandable who speaks when. Should you encounter any problems please leave a comment so I can fix this.  
> You can also follow me on my Tumblr rumowrites. The story will also get posted there.

During the following year, they would sometimes meet at the well whenever Runaan was back from yet another assignment and Tinker could persuade Varou to let him go a little earlier. It wasn’t much but they still kept in touch, Tink dutifully reported any news once the other returned from a longer trip, so he wouldn’t miss out on the gossip. They made it a habit of theirs to at least quickly say goodbye every time the Assassins left and he always gave Runaan an additional bracelet with a different spell should he need them.

Varou often mocked him about his crush whenever he basically sprinted from the workshop to see the victorious group return. The old elf apparently found his ramblings entertaining and always listened carefully whenever he talked about Runaan, only to use the information to lovingly make fun of him later.

Once the Assassin came by at the shop with a dozen or so weapons for maintenance and Tink nearly dropped the blazing hot blade he was working on on his own feet. Varou quickly took over his work before either the metal would be too cold to shape or he’d burn a hole in the workshop floor, leaving him to deal with their unexpected customer. “Hey, uhm what can I do for you?” he absently pushed the now slightly longer bangs out of his face while shedding the heavy duty gloves he wore to protect himself from the heat. Otherwise he was only clad in dark trousers and a think white linen shirt that clung to his sweaty torso. For a moment, Runaan did nothing but stare at him with something glinting in his eyes and he suddenly felt the need to cover himself. Once he pulled his leather vest back on, the Assassin straightened. “I need these sharpened and some of the handles need re-fixing.” His tone didn’t let on any emotion as per usual. Tink even found he’d gotten better at the whole indifferent-mask-thing since he joined the dark squadron. He quickly examined every blade and tested them before setting them aside. “It should be done by tomorrow. I assume they are inventory of the squadron?” Runaan nodded, placing a purse with coins on the table that bore the insignia of his group. “Yes”

“Alright, I will bring them over tomorrow once they are all finished. Anything else?”   
“No that’s all thank you.” He inclined his head once before leaving the small shop with the fast but graceful stride Tink had come accustomed to.

The door hadn’t even fully closed again when Varou appeared at his side “So that’s the one?” He who was currently hitting his head on the table repeatedly at his clumsiness nodded faintly. “Yes that’s the one. His name is Runaan.”

The old elf chuckled, resting a hand on his shoulder “I know who he is, everyone does. Though I wouldn’t have thought you to fall for the stern and deadly type.” With a groan, he pushed himself up again to start on the new commission. “You don’t think I have a chance.” Tink stated, looking at the stocky smith.

“Oh no, I think you do.” The other replied to his surprise “The way he looked at you earlier was more than clear to me.”

“Really?” it came out far more like a squeal than Tink cared to admit but Varou only grinned like he was up to something. “I think you should deliver the swords tomorrow.” He said before returning to his own work.

* * *

 

The moment he stepped into the little workshop, he felt his heart beating faster. Tinker was standing over the forge and shaped a piece of metal with practised ease. And he looked oh so beautiful. The elf was only clad in a thin linen shirt that hugged his back in way that displayed every move of his muscles. Once he realized Runaan was there, he looked slightly panicked and the Assassin was almost sad to disturb him that way. In the back he could see Varou, the shop owner taking over at the forge, ushering his apprentice to greet him.

He almost didn’t register the question because he was far too occupied with tracking the hand that pushed light copper hair from Tinkers sweaty forehead. The elf’s cheeks had streaks of ash on them and were slightly tinted red from the fire. His gaze flickered up and down the other’s body until he noticed him pulling on a dark brown leather vest, blocking the sight.

“I need these sharpened and some of the handles need re-fixing.” He finally managed, putting as much indifference in his voice as possible.

He had a hard time keeping his calm during the conversation and almost fled the workshop afterwards. What was happening to him? His usually calm and controlled heart was now beating times faster than it ever did during the most exhausting exercise.

Runaan made a stop in the forest next to a little stream before returning to the training grounds. For the moons sake he had to regain his calm before going back or his training companions would never let him live it down. He splashed some cold water on his face and watched his own reflection in the water until he found he looked normal enough. Even before they would mock him for his protectiveness of the other elf. Should he so much as slip before them, his reputation among them would never emend itself.

That night he didn’t dream of the people he killed. Instead, Tinkers working form materialized in the dark and lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

The next day, Tinker finished the last blade around midday. It was faster than he thought he would be so he finished a few other orders before heading over to the training compound early in the afternoon. He had the blades wrapped up in thick cloth so they wouldn’t cut him on the way. Once he reached the gate, however he almost dropped them.

He hadn’t realized it was training time when he left the workshop and was now greeted with a shirtless Runaan and other lightly dressed warriors, exchanging intricate patterns and blocks with their various weapons. All of the blades were dulled of course but he was still fascinated by the deadly precision of the tall elf. His hair was flowing after him as he ducked this way and that, evading the spear of the elf he was training with.

Tinker was careful to evade the moving soldiers, not wanting to get in-between one of the blades and quickly made his way towards the armoury. The elf responsible for the weapons admired his work in restoring the blades and told him to deliver greetings to Varou. With the promise of doing just that, he left the cellar again, stepping out in the yard once more.

Runaan and the elf he fought before were now standing at the edge of the pit, apparently rehearsing some fight moves. He watched, mesmerized as the elf vaulted himself in the air, landing behind his training partner and held one of his blades against the other’s neck. Runaan released him immediately and the duo exchanged a few blows that looked friendly and playful.

Then, suddenly their eyes met and Runaan just stopped, outright staring at him. His training partner noticed the absence of his attention too late and rammed him the spear in the side with considerable force. Tink could see how the air left his Lungs and the Assassin quickly focused back on his partner who seemed to be asking if everything was alright.

He hastly turned towards the gate, slipping out of sight before he could embarrass both of them by running over and asking if Runaan was hurt. Tink felt his ears heat up on the way back to the workshop. He didn’t mean to startle the other. Once he was back at the shop, Varou inquired every detail and laughed at him afterwards for being embarrassed. The day still had a good side when the old elf let him go early after he had almost dropped the hammer on his feet several times during daydreams about a certain assassin.

* * *

 

Runaan joined his training partner Kourou in the pit, stretching his sore arms a little before dropping into a loose fighting stance. They had to run drills the whole morning and all of the newer members of the group were slightly exhausted. During lunch break, he felt the sweat almost dripping from his training uniform and ditched the shirt like some of the others, allowing the light wind to cool him down. It was a considerable hot day so most of the elves only wore light clothes to begin with but after countless laps around the yard most of them chose to remain topless for the afternoon session.

They were rehearsing some of the newer moves they tried this week and kept it mostly simple without too much speed or force to allow their bodies a little rest. They were in the middle of a simple sequence from general training when his eyes found a familiar figure leaning against the wall and watching them. He couldn’t help but stare. Tinker looked even more beautiful than before, his slim figure accentuated by the form-fitting red short-sleeved shirt that matched oh so perfectly to his light copper hair. The other elf was just brushing some strands out of his face when their eyes met and Runaan’s whole world stopped.

He got knocked back into reality rather forcefully when Kourou’s spear collided with his left side, sending waves of bright pain through his whole body. It took all his restraint not to scream and collapse on the floor right there. Kourou carefully stepped towards him “Are you okay?” he just nodded, biting back a wince and straightened his posture again “I’m fine. Just slipped.” He was eternally grateful that his voice didn’t betray him and sounded relatively normal. His partner however raised an eyebrow, examining the bruise already forming on his side doubtfully “Yeah sure. You are perfectly fine.” Runaan couldn’t help but glimpse to the gate where Tinker just left the academy. Apparently he hadn’t been inconspicuous enough because Kourou tracked his gaze and broke into a grin. “Ah, I see.” He forced his face further into the emotionless mask he had perfected long ago and made sure his voice was equally stern as bewildered when he asked “What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, Runaan. You know exactly what I’m talking about-“ Kourou turned and he barely supressed the urge to slap himself as the inevitable happened and his partner shouted across the whole yard “Hey everyone, Runaan has a crush!” Laughter surrounded him for a few moments before they all returned to their own exercises. Oh he was never going to hear the end of this.

“Really Kourou? Really? You are going to fight me for that.” He just hoped Tinker had been far enough away already to not overhear their conversation. His side screamed in protest as he dropped in a predatory fighting stance but he was rewarded with getting Kourou on his back over and over again as they fought till the end of their training.

At the end of the day Runaan could only collapse on the floor of his training room after his evening session. Everything hurt in one way or another. I retrospect it had been dumb to fight as reckless as he had after the incident with Tinker. It has satisfied his need of Revenge on Kourou but now, he was covered in bigger and smaller bruises that all seemed to throb in the same rhythm, causing him a headache. It probably also hadn’t been a good idea to go through with the whole set of exercises he did at home every evening because now, he was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. But he had been so full of frantic energy by the time he got home that he hardly managed to keep still.

Runaan wasn’t sure how long exactly he stayed in this position, back flat on the wooden panels, before he finally managed to drag himself over to the kitchen for something to eat. Once upstairs in his bedroom, he fell on the soft mattress fully clothed and was gone in a matter of seconds.


	5. swords and flowers

Runaan visited the shop more and more often after that to see Tinker work. He was fascinated by the way the other was completely focused on whatever he was doing and always startled a little when disturbed. Sometimes he ended up standing in the doorway with no idea how he got there and ended up buying some whetstones to not make a complete fool of himself. He also saw Tinker a few times watching their evening training whenever they closed the shop early. On those days the other elf mostly waited for him to finish in order to demonstrate a new spell or potion he was working on incorporating in his crafts. Runaan was always glad for the diversion the talkative elf brought him and enjoyed listening to him for hours.

Whenever he is away on assignment, he is sure to keep the now numerous bracelets safely tucked under his right bracer. Until now, he only had to use them twice and Tinker always re-enchanted them once he was back.

He was nineteen now and had his own command on most missions. The majority of elves regarded him with a mix of awe and respect, however, he still felt like a child compared to the other soldiers of the squadron. And he kind of was, the next youngest elf had just turned twenty-three and was only with the group for a few months.

Exhaustion filled his bones when he led his group back through the gates of their village, bells announcing their arrival. This mission had been particularly stressful on his part. One of their scouts broke her leg on their way out and Runaan had to use three of Tinker’s healing spells to get her moving again. But the worst part wasn’t the mission itself, it had been their target. A kid, only twelve years old at most but already king of one of the human kingdoms. In his mind, he knew the child had made some terrible decisions, resulting in numerous deaths on either side but he couldn’t get the image of those cold and dead eyes staring up at him.

He had been their leader, it was his duty to carry most of the weight but today he wasn’t sure he was able to.

The sight of a familiar figure at the far end of the crowd gave him new hope. Once the official report was over and done with, Runaan quickly vanished in the crowd before somebody could try and talk to him.

 “I’m glad you all got back save.” Was the first thing he heard upon slipping around a dark corner to hide him from view. It startled him a little that Tinker apparently knew how to sneak up on him with ease but soon, his stance relaxed visibly. “I’m glad to be back. Did something happen while we were gone?” The smaller elf shook his head “Not really, you were only gone for a few days. Although I have now officially ended my apprenticeship and am proud to call myself a blacksmith.” He showed Runaan an intricate metal pendant that classified him as smith and jewellery maker. “Tinker that is great!” he praised giving the other a brief hug. It was nice to be back. Really nice. “I would ask you to spend the evening together but we have a lot to do in the workshop and I probably have to work until the early hours today.” Runaan felt a slight sting of disappointment but nodded, still keeping the smile glued to his face “No problem, I will be here for a while either way. Training the new recruits so maybe the next days?” The prospect of seeing him for a longer time clearly pleased the short haired elf “Okay, well then, Varou is already waiting for me to get back, See you soon!” Runaan raised his arm to wave at the already parting figure “See you soon.”

He managed to get home without running into anybody and counted that as a personal win. The last thing he could use right now was someone congratulating him on killing a child.

Even though he felt like he couldn’t possibly hold his eyes open much longer, sleep wouldn’t come. So he dressed in a light shirt with wide pants and went down to train. He did that until his arms were shaking but still, he found no rest. After an hour of fruitless meditation on the living room floor, he decided to go for a run in the woods. It wasn’t that late after all and a little bit of sunlight still illuminated the trees. He ran wide circles around the house until his legs finally gave out and dragged himself back inside. The exhaustion induced sleep he falls in just meters from the front door does nothing to regain any of his strength. He wakes every few hours from a nightmare and when he doesn’t Runaan sees the boy they killed, begging him to spare his life.

Luckily he has no official training until the recruits arrive in a week and a half and is therefore able to hide in the house for most of the day. In the evening, the whole charade starts again, until he finally gives in, takes his swords and bow and heads out into the night to train. The sun is dawning when he climbs back into the house through a window. He doesn’t know why he didn’t take the door instead. By now, he is fully lost to sleep deprivation and a certain human child that keeps ghosting through his mind. Runaan passes the day in a state that is equally awake and asleep on the seating area of the kitchen because his bed is just too far away.

He has to open the door once for the merchant who is delivering food for him and the surrounding houses but otherwise stays inside. When he catches his reflection in the mirror next to the door, a stranger is staring back at him through tired, dark rimmed eyes.

Runaan decides he finally has to get a grip and takes a cold shower, fixing his hair like Tinker had done that one time in the woods and makes himself something to eat. Everything takes painfully long because he’s always about to pass out but at the end of the day, he is clean and in fresh clothes and feels less like a complete failure.

He tells himself over and over that it had to be done until he believes it and even managed to get some scarce hours of undisturbed sleep at night. He’s up again early the next morning, going through the training routine he invented for his days off.

Afterwards, he dresses casually in a dark blue shirt that he knows contrasts his eyes perfectly with a form fitting black leather vest and heads out to the shop. It's because after his last few assignments he really needs new arrowheads and not because of the handsome elf working there. At least that’s what he tells himself upon entering the cramped workshop.

Tinker is immediately there to greet him, leaving the pendant he'd been working on behind.   
“Do you have some of the Arrowheads at hand I got here the last time? The last missions proved to be very projectile-consuming.” The short haired elf nods and begins to look into different boxes until he finds what he’s been looking for “Ah, here!” he exclaims holding up a small carton that is somehow labelled ‘R. Arrows’ “We still have about- “ Tink pauses for a moment, staring into the box intently “-twelve! Twelve heads left. How many do you need?”

Runaan ends up buying all of them because he does really need new Arrows and they are without doubt the best he ever used. He tells Tinker as much who then blushes in the most adorable way imaginable. With newfound energy, he conducts the rest of his shopping, mostly consisting of vegetables and new clothes. A few non-combat-uniform outfits in his wardrobe would certainly do him good. Especially when a little bird (Varou) had given him a hint that Tink loved the form-fitting sleeveless shirts he sometimes sported under his general Armour.

* * *

 

Slowly, the days get colder and they finish training earlier because of the lack of light. Soon, they would have to go in one of the large halls specifically built for winter training. One day after a particular ruff session, Runaan sees a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall next to the gate, waiting for him. He can’t help but smile at the sight of the other elf whose face is almost completely covered by a huge brown scarf. “Hey” he greets, tucking his coat a little closer around his body. He is still warm from the running they did in the last hour but the warmth would quickly fade.

“Hello” Tinker replied, holding out a package to him “I know you usually use a bow or your dual swords but can never really take the bow with you because it takes up too much space so I tried something new.” He gestured for him to open it and studied his reaction carefully “I mean it’s not completely done, there is still some fine-tuning to do but-“ he rambled on only to be stopped by Runaan’s breathy “It’s beautiful. I- I can’t accept that.” Inside the thick cotton cloth were two swords that were made to connect in the middle forming a full-sized war-bow. “You can and you will.” Tink reached for the two blades snapping them together in the middle. The string just seemed to appear out of nowhere once the handles were joined. At Runaan’s questioning glance, he pointed at several moonstones that were enclosed in the hilts “It’s enchanted. The string will automatically attach once the pieces are joined.”

“Thank you, Tink. Really, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” A grin appeared on his face at the nickname “Well I thought you could train with it a bit and then give me a feedback so I can adjust it until they work like you need them to.”

* * *

 

When Runaan entered the shop a few days later to hand over the weapon for correction, Tinker found a little note attached to it. He immediate opened the folded paper and stared at the text in utter disbelief.

_“The handles could use a little more weight to balance_  
the blades and you can increase the draw strength of   
the bow a good six pounds. Thank you.   
Dinner at my place tomorrow,   
I will pick you up from the shop.”

He read the few lines over and over, trying to process the information. Apparently he hadn’t answered a couple times when Varou called him because the old elf was suddenly standing in front of him, looking concerned. “Are you ok?” Tink only nodded, slowly setting the note aside. “Yeah, more than ok actually.” He couldn’t help the grin that threatened to split his face.

“So did the coward finally ask you out?” his teacher was never one to be subtle but he still startled for a second. “What?” the word was out before he regained his composure, looking at Varou with a puzzled expression. “The young Assassin you fancy, Runaan, did he finally ask you out for moon’s sake?”  It took him a couple of seconds to fully understand what the smith wanted from him “I- I don’t know? I think so? Maybe?” Tink helplessly clasped his hands in front of his face. With a fond sigh, Varou reached for the note “Here let me see.”

“And?” Tinker asked with a feeling between joy and anxiety. “He’s definitely asking you out. Finally might I add? Seeing you two dance around each other for the last three years was equally cute as it was pathetic.” He handed the note back before continuing “Although I must say he was the most entertaining customer I had those past years. By now he must be in possession of enough whetstones to last him at least a lifetime.”

Tink furrowed his brow “What do you mean?” the question resulted in full out laughter from the old elf “What I mean, my boy, is that this stone cold assassin walked in here a couple of times without realizing and bought whetstones so that he wouldn’t have to admit that he came to see you. Also, all those swords that needed fixing? The squadron never in my whole life had that great of a problem keeping their blades intact as the time you have been working here.”  

“You think so?” he hated how hopeful he sounded but deep down he had always known that something connected them. Varou rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in in gentle encouragement “Yes, I do.”

When Tinker was leaving the shop that night, the stocky smith called him back in “You might want to pack some spare clothes tomorrow.” He winked before ushering him out again.

* * *

 

He barley slept that night, thinking about the invitation over and over. It both, filled him with anticipation and anxiety to go on a real date. What should he wear? Should he bring flowers? What if this wasn’t a date and he made a complete fool of himself? What if it was a date and he made a complete fool of himself?

Runaan on the other hand was completely calm. Or that was what he told himself as he cleaned the whole house for the second time that night and prepared way too much food for two people. He even arranged some flowers around the general kitchen and living area to give the room less of an armoury-mixed-with-a-training-room look.

He spent most of the night training to get the agitation out of his bones and changed his outfit four times before finally falling asleep mere two hours before he had to get up again.

Training that day was humiliating to say the least. Kourou who never managed to hit him anymore even on a good day had him on his back more times he cared to count. Runaan simply couldn’t help but thinking about Tinker, brushing the now slightly too long bangs out of his face. His partner regarded him with curious looks when he actually changed after training. Something he almost never did. Usually, he just threw the coat that accompanied his uniform over his shoulders and went straight home.

Today however, he changes together with the other assassins, ignoring the appreciative glances from some of his fellow soldiers and pulls a fresh shirt from his bag. It’s dark blue and sleeveless, hugging his figure perfectly. Runaan layers it with a black leather vest that accentuates his broad shoulders and slim waist before throwing the long dark green uniform coat over his shoulders. He silently escaped before Kourou could riddle him with questions of where he was going and whether he went on a date or not.

Tinker was still busy when he arrived so he leaned against the door, watching the other work on several intricate necklaces. It took the short haired elf almost ten minutes before he noticed his presence as focused as he was. The blush that appeared on the other’s face afterwards was way to adorable to not smile in response.

* * *

 

Tink barley registered the little bell that announced a new customer as he shaped a moonstone pendant. It was a custom order and he had spent the last three hours figuring out how to attach it to a necklace without disturbing the geometric pattern. When he looked up from his work a few minutes later, he was greeted with the sight of Runaan intently watching him. The Assassin was dressed in his winter uniform, a sight for the gods really. His hands were pushed into the deep pockets of the fur trimmed coat and Tink found his eyes sparkled even more than usually. He quickly focused back on his work, feeling the blush appear on his face. “I’m almost done here.” The short haired elf said while tweaking the last metal parts into place, checking if everything ended up where it should be. “I’m in no hurry. Take your time.” In contrary to his usually stern tone, Runaan’s voice was now filled with warmth and slightly hoarse from hours of shouting commands at the new recruits.

* * *

 

Varou appeared in the doorway shortly after his arrival, gesturing for Runaan to follow him back in the forge. “I could use a hand here, Tinker can pack his things while you help me.” He wasn’t quite sure what the other was going for but obediently followed the old elf, shedding his coat and placing it on one of the unused worktables.  

As soon as they reached the gleaming fire, Varou pushed a pair of thick leather gloves in his hands followed by a piece of dark yellow glowing iron. “Hold this would you?” he asked, gesturing for the anvil. Runaan placed the metal on the flat iron surface and watched as the old smith formed it this way and that until an axe blade was visible. “You are here to pick up Tinker?” the question was both parts surprising and expected. “Yes.” There was no point in lying to the elf. “If you hurt him…” he began, hitting the metal with a little more force than just moments ago before placing it back in the fire. “I would never.” Runaan held the other’s gaze until the smith finally nodded “Glad we understand each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought a protective Varou would be kinda cute. There will probably be a one-shot about the events between Runaan's last mission and the date because I have all sorts of ideas that would totally not fit in here anymore. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it. In the next chapter, we will see Runaan in action.


	6. The things we do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long overdue but also a very late Birthday present:) So Happy Birthday! 
> 
> Additionally: since the Weapon Reveal of Rayla and Runaan, my Idea of Tinker making him his Bowblade is officially canon! Which is great and hopefully a reason for us to get to see "Tinker" in Season 2;)  
> Anyways, enjoy!

It had finally happened, the thing Runaan feared more than death itself; Tink had been ordered to the border. Not to fight really but what was the difference anyways? One of the forts on their side had a defect catapult and apparently, the present blacksmith had no idea how to fix it. And because Varou was a little too old to travel that far, they ordered Tinker to go in his place. At first he wanted to request accompanying his group but the smith had talked him out of it. He would stay in the castle at all times, he’d said. There was no reason for Runaan to worry with so many experienced warriors around him but of course he worried.

His heart almost stopped when a falcon brought message of Tinker’s group being ambushed on their way back. The humans had captured his lover once they found out he was responsible for the impenetrable defence systems of their fortresses. Due to his position as General in the squadron, he was also invited to the meeting that would decide whether a rescue mission would be wise or a waste of resources.

Upon reaching the heavy oak doors of the conference room, he steeled himself, every emotion disappearing from his face until there was nothing left but stern, deadly determination. One of the guards who opened the door for him turned a couple shades paler at the sight, hastily stumbling out of his way. Runaan didn’t care. He couldn’t risk getting his emotions in the way. If he wanted to get this mission, he needed to rely on facts and facts only. Luckily their relationship was fairly new and none of the elves besides Varou knew about it. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been a chance for him.

He is the last one to arrive at the table shaped in form of the elven and human kingdoms. The other generals and high priests are all staring at him with mixed expressions. Some with respect, some with spite. Runaan is easily the youngest in this room with his twenty years but nobody dares to comment on his presence, taking it for granted that the second in command of the dark squadron is barley even an adult.

Neferi, the high Moon Priestess speaks first, regarding every elf around the table with a meaningful look “I don’t think we should risk more lives to free the captured elf. The chances of failure are too high.” There are a few murmurs but nobody dares to speak just yet. Instead, they all turn towards him, expectantly. Since his commander is currently away on assignment, he possesses full authority of the elite group. He knows what they expect from him and the words roll from his lips easily even though they break his heart. “I completely agree with you high Priestess, under normal circumstances I wouldn’t risk the lives of my soldiers for a single elf.” More murmuring throughout the group, louder now. It wasn’t entirely what they expected. Or maybe they didn’t expect him to be that cold, who knew?

Neferi watches him with narrowed eyes, the question evident on her graceful features “But?”

“Am I informed correctly that the elf in question is a blacksmith, tasked with repairing the defence mechanisms of two of the border fortresses?” His voice is calm and stern, every part the striving general he pretends to be. Runaan waits for the collective nods of the others before he continues “Then he is in possession of crucial Information about our defence systems. Seeing that the elf is not a trained soldier but a mere smith, it would be dangerous to assume he is able to endure whatever kinds of torture the humans practice on him to get that information.” In his heart, he knew Tinker would never spill any secrets that could endanger Xadia but the others didn’t, and that was an advantage he planned on using to his benefit.

“Acting Commander Runaan, with all due respect but do you really believe any elf would betray Xadia?” the question was expected and he regards the older elf with a nod before answering “It does not matter what I believe or not. The possibility is there and that is a risk I wouldn’t be willing to take.” Now everyone was outright shouting at each other, pointing this way and that on the map at hand. It takes a full ten minutes for Neferi to get the raging novelty back under control. They all knew the truth behind his words but the thought of humans being able to storm their fortresses alone caused panic.

“What would you suggest?” He had thought about this question from the moment he knew Tink was missing. A full team would be too obvious and the chances of casualties were too high. A single elf would only slow him down and wouldn’t be of much help. “I propose to go alone. Tonight so I am able to reach the border within the next full moon. This way we ensure no more losses among my soldiers.” Runaan had his mind set on it and in his heart he knew even if they refused to let him go, he would try it either way. The silence following his proposition was almost otherworldly. “What if you can’t save the elf in time?” Neferi looks at him intently, seemingly searching for any sign of emotion. “Then I will do what is necessary and ensure a quick and painless death.” Some of them gasp in disbelief. The image he created around himself was one of a stone cold killer only tied to Xadia but most elves were still horrified upon seeing the full extent of his profession.

“Very well then, let us vote.” Almost every elf present agreed to his proposition, only a few voting against it because they thought he obviously had a death wish. Well, they weren’t wrong.

The high priestess officially issued the order immediately after the meeting “In my absence, I appoint Kourou as acting commander until either I or the Commander have returned. Should you hear nothing from me after six days, consider me and the elf dead.” With that, he turned, stalking through a quickly parting crowd with long fast steps. He had a rescue mission to prepare.

His first stop was Varou’s workshop where he dumped his weapons on the table with an audible clang “I need this sharp enough to cut stone in two hours.” And left before the old elf could say something. Runaan knew he would lose his cool should the other ask him what was wrong. The smith was the only one who really knew about the two of them and he could only cage his raging heart for so long.

Once home, he destroyed all three of his practice dummies in a matter of minutes, only stopping when they were no more than a pile of shredded wood. With a frustrated yell, he threw the sword he had been using against the wall, watching as it got stuck and slightly vibrated from the force of his throw. He had to get a grip, for Tinker. The assassin was of no use if he tried to storm the human fortress head on.

After packing some field rations and several spare arrowheads in his pack, he went to change. The formal uniform felt uncomfortable, restricting his movement way too much. He chose his usual lightly armoured vest with the long sleeveless coat instead. The garments felt familiar and gave him a feeling of security even though he was about to try and literally storm a castle by himself. Runaan fixed his hair that hadn’t completely survived his outburst earlier and fastened the shoulder armour that marked him as commander on his left side.

Back down, he caved and stuffed another quiver full of arrows in his pack, just in case. One last look in the mirror and he was out of the door. To his relief, he didn’t look as panicked as he felt. Staring back form the reflection was the figure of a soldier, a commander that seemed far older than his twenty winters. There would be people seeing him off, he had to keep it together until he was in save distance of any other elf.

When he entered Varou’s shop again, his daggers and the dual blades Tink had made for him were already waiting on the counter. Unfortunately, the old elf was, too. “You are going to get him aren’t you?” he asked, looking as worried as Runaan felt. There were deep smudges under the other’s eyes and he knew the smith probably blamed himself for what happened. “You know I’m not allowed to-“ he began but was cut off, before he could finish the sentence. “Cut the crap, Runaan. There is no one here besides us. No need for the charade. Are you getting me my student back or not?” for a moment, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes but forced them back with practised ease “Yes, -, yes I-I will try to.” His voice suddenly sounded hoarse, the cold control completely forgotten. Upon hearing the defeat in his own voice, he dropped on one of the stools next to the worktable, resting his head on crossed arms. “He, he wouldn’t let me come with him. I could- I could have protected him.” Runaan was close to sobbing now, pulling every inch of restraint together not to.

“They almost didn’t let me go.” He whispered faintly, looking towards Varou, who was as close to a friend as he had.

“So you are going alone?” the blacksmith sounded even more concerned than before. And who could blame him? A young elf alone against a whole battalion of humans? No matter how good he was, it still seemed like suicide.

Runaan nodded, standing up again and tried to regain his composure. “I will get him back Varou. Or I die trying.” He busied himself with strapping the daggers to his upper legs and storing the dual blades in their respective places on his quiver to evade the old elf’s gaze for as long as possible. He was almost out of the door, when Varou called him back “Runaan, wait!” quieter, he added “Good luck.” before Runaan had the chance to duck out completely.

His walk through the village was quick. The elves parted upon his fast determined steps, creating a way of murmured comments. He blocked them all out. News travelled fast in this town and he was sure most of them opposed of his plan and found it reckless. Of course nobody had the guts to say that to his face.

He touched the now numerous bracelets under his right bracer one last time before fully emerging into the woods “I’m coming for you.”

It took him one and a half days to reach the breach. A new record as far as he knew but he couldn’t care less. The next full moon was in two nights and he had a lot of scouting to do. Runaan found shelter at one of the forts along the breach. The same one where Tink had stayed before. The soldiers who escaped the ambush were all eager to help and answered every question he had as well as they could. His smith had made a good impression on everyone that worked with him. Every elf he talked with wished him good luck on his quest.

The human castle stronghold was half a day’s march away so Runaan decided to leave early the next morning. He watched the guards change shifts during the day and exploited weaknesses and blind spots until the sun was disappearing over the horizon. The familiar rush of power during a full moon filled his limbs, fuelling his strength. Getting into the castle was easy, cloaked by the darkness of the night, he slipped past most guards with ease. Finding his boyfriend however turned out to be challenging. The dungeon was the best guarded place in the castle, having only one entry point.

He used a shift change and his cloaked form to slip past the only guard that was visible from the courtyard. He would probably have to kill him on the way out but every minute he gained by staying unnoticed, he could use to find Tinker.

His plan worked great until about three hallways further where two guards blocked the entry down to the dungeon. He shot the first one and was on the other before his companion even hit the floor. Runaan listened for a few seconds, he was still unnoticed. Good. The assassin continued his way until he reached the cell block the first few were empty but the fourth one was occupied by a human who stared at him in shock. "Where is the elf?” he asked, strangling the man through the bars. “They- they took him.” The other managed “Where?” Runaan tightened his hand around the man’s throat “Down the hall, it’s the third-“ the human wheezed until he opened his hold a little “-third door on the left, sometimes you can hear the screams.”

That last comment earned the man knock out against one of the iron bars enclosing his cell. Quickly, Runaan followed the hallway in the direction the human had pointed to. He stayed in the shadows as much as possible, avoiding any passing guards.

Until he heard the screams.

Everything stopped for a second before a red haze clouded his vision, tinting the world a dark translucent red. The screams were unmistakably Tink’s. He broke out in a full sprint, cutting down the human soldiers in his way like grass. Usually he never killed if not absolutely necessary, knocking his victims out instead but the heart-breaking screams of the only person he truly loved were too much.

Driven by the hot fury pumping through his veins, he reached the door that separated him from the noise. A forceful kick later, he stood in midst of ten human soldiers. Three of them had an arrow through their heart before the first one even reacted. Runaan felt swords cutting his arms but couldn’t care less about it. The pain only fuelled his anger, driving him further into deathly rage. In a matter of minutes, the last opponent was felled by one of his daggers and he turned towards the one doing the torturing. Before the man could cry for help, the Assassin had him pressed up against the wall by his throat, sword hovering over the other’s heart. Faintly, through the red fog, he could hear the man pleading for mercy but all that was stuck in head were Tinker’s screams as he rammed the blade through his body, only stopping when the tip hit the stone wall behind him. Runaan carelessly tossed the dead body aside, scanning the room for his beloved.

He finally found him, chained to the wall by his wrists, feet barley touching the ground. His shirt was ripped open and he could make out several deep cuts and burns on Tinker’s body. The red intensified once more as he cut the elf down, catching him gently in his arms. “Runaan?” suddenly the fog was gone, hatred replaced by worry for his friend. “I’m here.” He assured quickly “Can you walk? We have to get out of here.” Tinker nodded, struggling to his feet while coughing up water with unhealthy wet sounds. “I’m okay.”

He doubted that statement but there was hardly time to check on all of his wounds. Soon, someone would notice them. Despite the countless cuts, Tinker didn’t show his pain save the occasional wince. Later, Runaan would have time to be impressed by his self-restraint. Now, Runaan quickly searched the room for a suitable weapon and handed him the sword of a fallen human guard. While the smith was a rather unskilled fighter for a moonshadow elf, he could probably best most of the human soldiers. They had trained each other in the past years. Runaan showing him more advanced fighting moves and getting taught several moon magic spells by Tinker. He was still only passable at enchantments but the other had picked up most of the lessons quickly.

Together, they followed the way back he originally used to get in, looking out for any signs of trouble. When they passed the human in his cell, the man hastily scurried back until his back collided with the wall. Runaan didn’t even spare him a second glance. All his energy was focused on getting out of this death trap of a prison. Faintly, they could hear a horn blaring in the distant corridors behind them. Someone found the bodies.

The Assassin couldn’t suppress the curse upon their discovery, quickening his pace. “Can you run?” Tinker nodded with a grim look on his face but one hallway later, Runaan could already feel him getting a little slower. Further plans that started to form in his head were momentarily disturbed by a group of five soldiers blocking their way. He made quick work of the first three, feeling a rush of pride when Tinker knocked the fourth one out, effectively covering the taller elf’s back. The fifth turned to run but got an arrow between his shoulder blades that Runaan ripped back out upon passing the body. He would need as much as he could get.

Finally, they reached the doorway out into the courtyard. Tinker wanted to open the heavy oak door but the Assassin held him back, pressing them against the stone walls before carefully nudging the door open with the tip of his bow. The yard was surprisingly empty, only the guards he’d seen before patrolled along the walls. He easily slipped in his cloaked for as the moon was still high and next to him his beloved also vanished in the dark, the spiralling pattern on his cheek glowing slightly. Tinkers affinity to magic saved him considering the cloaking spell was a very energy consuming procedure. Were Runaan as heavily injured as his friend, he wouldn’t be able to cloak himself for more than a couple minutes.

Together they made their way towards the part of the castle walls where he had come in. The segment was less guarded then the rest and would hopefully give them a chance to leave undetected. That hope however vanished as soon as a dozen guards came spilling out of the dungeon entrance.

“Can you get up there?” he asked gesturing for the top of the wall. For him it would be easy to scale it but then, the other elf was injured and he’d always been the more agile one. Tinker followed his gaze, wincing at the distance. His cloaking flickered for a split second before he answered “I’m not sure. I can barely feel my arms.” Behind them he could hear the guards searching the perimeter, alerting the rest who patrolled the walls. They had to act fast. His gaze flickered around the yard, checking every possible escape route. A couple meters to the left he spotted a ladder leading up towards the top of the walls. That would do.

“Get up that ladder as quickly as possible, I will cover you!” he whispered, drawing the first arrow. Tinker immediately hurried to the spot he’d pointed at and started to climb the wooden steps. The human standing guard above him silently tumbled to the floor as one of Runaan’s arrows hit him. The Assassin continued to pick off the nearest guards on the castle walls to ensure the other elf’s safe passage.

Behind him, he could feel the other soldiers getting closer and closer to detect him. While the cloaking spell hid him effectively in the shadows, it didn’t make him completely invisible and soon they would be able to pinpoint his location based on the shots he made.

For sure they would follow them even if they managed to get down onto the ground unscathed. He had to thin their lines. Otherwise the humans could just pick them off the castle wall with their horrible crossbows while they climbed down.

Runaan turned to look at the guards. They would be able to see him in a few metres. A glance to the top of the wall told him Tinker had reached the stone walk and hid next to a few crates, waiting for him. He quickly looked around and grabbed the first rope he found, throwing it up to his lover, motioning for him to start climbing down already. He would catch up.

Most importantly he didn’t want Tinker to see the fight that was about to happen. And should he not walk away from it, at least the other would be safe. Runaan released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as the smith obediently tied the rope around one of the battlements and disappeared over the edge.

Two arrows later, every soldier that could possibly have come close enough to harm his beloved was down and Runaan turned, facing the now advancing guards. He closed his eyes, recalling the agonizing screams he’d heard in the dungeon and waited for the cold furious rage. He would need the adrenaline and hate if he wanted to get out on top of this.

A red hue clouded his vision once more as he snapped the bow in half, producing two curved blades and charged right into the group, taking them by surprise. Everything in his mind narrowed down to striking and evading. When the humans finally responded and fought back properly, he was already surrounded by dead bodies. The first dozen quickly joined their comrades in the dungeon but soon, more and more humans advanced from all sides, trying to surround him.

By now, Tinker should have reached the bottom he thought and managed to back away towards where the rope was still tied to the wall. With a forceful leap, he spiralled himself up to meet the two guards that came running over the crosswalk to intercept him. Both quickly met their end just as he heard the sound of something whizzing past his head. Crossbows.

The next shot scraped his arm before he had time to duck behind a crate. Runaan tried to locate the shooter and finally found two guards that were currently firing at him. By now he was so accustomed to his extraordinary weapon that the transition from blades to bow only took the time he needed to stand up and draw an arrow with his other hand. Within the blink of an eye both humans fell and he slung the bow over his shoulder, ripping a piece of fabric off of his tunic. He wrapped it tightly around his right hand before grabbing the rope and jumped over the wall. Rappelling down took him a fraction of the time he would have needed while climbing but he could still feel his skin burn under the makeshift protection from the uneven rope.

Once on the ground, he frantically searched for Tinker until a hushed voice called out for him “Over here!” The smith was hiding behind a tree, now without the cloaking spell and Runaan felt his own flickering and slowly dimming as exhaustion took its toll. “We have to hurry. They will come after uns.” Tink nodded, looking at him with a concerned expression “Are you ok?” There he was injured and still asking whether the Assassin was well. Runaan nodded quickly “Yeah sure. Let’s go.”

Tinker looked after him with a doubtful look but didn’t argue. There would be time for that later. As he waited for Runaan to follow, he’d performed a few minor healing spells with the force of the full moon and managed to close most of his more severe injuries. They still hurt but at least he was able to move.

However, they didn’t get far before the pair could hear the sound of horses approaching behind them. Runaan cursed under his breath as they quickened their pace, now full out-sprinting. Their efforts were not rewarded as the horses gained more and more ground even between the trees. Just as he thought they would soon be surrounded, Tinker pushed him to the ground with a shout “Watch out!” He was then buried under the body of his smith that was eerily emotionless. Quickly he pushed to his feet, drawing his bow in the motion. The first rider toppled off his horse, an arrow stuck in his chest and the crossbow slipping from his grasp. Three other Riders approached close behind their comrade and he also picked them off, listening for more.

When he couldn’t hear any more immediate pursuers he lowered his bow and rushed over to where Tinker was still on the floor. A crossbow bolt protruded from his left shoulder with a quickly growing pool of blood around it. “TINK!” he couldn’t supress the shout, carefully patting the other’s cheek until his eyes fluttered open. “You Idiot, what did you do that for?” he asked, the panic slipping through his formerly composed mask. Tinker only smiled in response, getting a hold on Runaan’s shirt. “I will have to get it out. It will hurt. You can’t black out on me, OK?” he explained before grabbing the thin shaft “Okay?” he repeated until the other finally nodded. With a quick turn of his wrist, the assassin snapped the shaft in half, pulling it out. Two healing spells from his bracelets later, the blood flow had lessened enough to wrap the smith’s shoulder in ripped parts of his uniform.

Runaan thought over his options. Originally he had planned to return to one of their forts along the breach but staying near the border would draw more humans on their trail and more would definitely come soon. This group could only have been a small scout troop to follow their trail. Their safest bet was to return home but the way was too far for Tinkers injuries. His gaze then fell on one of the horses that didn’t run away and he carefully neared the animal with soothing sounds. Although he preferred to travel by foot, he was more than capable of riding and in their current situation it was faster than walking.

He made sure the animal was at ease before heaving the semi-conscious elf on its back and climbing on after him. Human saddles were built to ride in full armour so he didn’t have any trouble to sit behind the smith and still steer the horse.

With a gentle nudge, he got the animal to walk and then gallop as fast as the terrain allowed. The sudden movements were probably hell on Tink’s injuries but if he wanted to get out of this alive, there was nothing else he could do. Runaan didn’t worry about humans tracking them. They wouldn’t dare venturing that far into elven territory.

About three hours out to their village, he could feel the horse trembling. Two riders were too much weight for the animal to carry that fast. Runaan pulled the reins, stopping their now merely trot and jumped down, catching Tink in his arms as the elf tried to get down, too. He left the horse were it was, leaving it up to the animal whether it would return home or follow them.

The smith took two shaking steps before collapsing on the soft ground with a groan. The events of his imprisonment and his injuries were finally catching up after the adrenaline was gone. Runaan was by his side in an instant, catching his head before it could hit the ground.

Without a second thought, he hoisted the other elf up in his arms and began walking towards their destination. By now, Tinker was only slightly smaller than him and the years of working at the forge certainly did him good strength wise but it also made him heavy. Runaan however banned the fear of collapsing on his way from his thoughts and stoically stared ahead instead. He willed himself to set one foot before the other until the woods became more and more familiar. They had almost reached the village. In the distance the Assassin could already hear the faint sound of bells announcing his arrival. Some of the scouts must have seen them coming.

He adjusted his grip on Tinker one last time to make sure he didn’t drop his precious cargo and forced his exhausted expression into a determined one. If he was carrying Tink back in his arms at least he didn’t want look as shaken as he felt.

Finally, he crossed the gate to their village and made a beeline for the market place. He needed medical attention for Tink and the more elves he met the better the news travelled. The market was busy this time of day and he was greeted with dozens of gaping elves that automatically cleared a path for him to walk through the masses. Somewhere in the distance he could hear a familiar voice shouting as he raised his voice in a commanding tone “I need a healer! NOW!” ten elves scrambled at once to get the news to their healers and suddenly Varou appeared in front of him and tried to pry Tink from his arms. Seeing that Runaan wouldn’t let go, he then helped to clear a path for them until they finally reached the little hospital and were greeted with a group of alerted healers. They quickly cleared a bed for Tinker and Runaan carefully laid him down, moving away so the healers could do their work. He made sure that the other was still breathing before turning towards the door again. He had a report to make. Any delay would only anger the council.

A hand on his arm held him back and suddenly, he looked into Varou’s concerned eyes. It took him longer than he cared to admit to decipher the other’s words as “Are you wounded?” He shook his head despite the numbness and pain in his body and jerked his chin in the direction of the house the council was assembled in “I have to go. Watch him.” The old smith nodded and hesitantly released his arm.

He kept his report as short and precise as possible, exhaustion slowly making its way through his bones. Somehow he was surprised to still be able to recall how many victims his mission caused. 67. They released him after all their questions were answered and Neferi ordered him to take a two week leave to heal. At first he wanted to protest but then Runaan felt all the injuries covering his body and only thanked her before returning to the hospital. The strange looks some of the council members regarded him with told the Assassin that there would most certainly a follow-up meeting where he had to defend his actions.

Tinker’s wounds had already been cleaned and the other elf slept with a rather peaceful expression. Varou was still by his side and gave him a short overview of the injuries Tink had suffered. Some of the torture related wounds made his heart ache but he was relieved when the old elf told him that there was a good chance for his apprentice to walk away without any lasting problems. “Good. That’s good.” His voice was monotone and not nearly as steady as he liked. “You should let them check your injuries. Just to make sure nothing is serious.” Varou stated, looking at the Assassin’s bloodied clothes. The young elf shook his head “I’m fine.” But as soon as the words left his lips, he had to admit how pathetic he sounded. Suddenly, Runaan was very aware of his appearance. When he turned his gaze downwards, all he could see were the remnants of his once dark blue tunic, now almost entirely covered in red-brown patches. Parts of it were ripped off or sliced through, creating jagged edges in the fabric. Runaan turned, facing the mirror next to the small wash-table and slowly stepped closer, hand moving to touch his face. His usually white hair was tousled, strands falling out of the braids at several points, and stained with red human blood. One of the short sleeves of his undershirt was missing where the crossbow bolt had grazed his shoulder, leaving a nasty flesh wound in its wake. Now that he saw it, the elf felt the familiar throb of pain running from his shoulder through his arm. A dozen little cuts, some deeper and others mere scratches, had sliced through his uniform, creating an odd pattern of dark smudges and exposed flesh. He had to admit that he looked terrible. Haunting even. His arms were almost completely covered in blood that he didn’t care to identify as was his face. There was no telling whether worse injuries were hidden under either dirt, blood or destroyed clothing.

Runaan realized he was still staring at his reflection when Varou suddenly appeared next to him. The old smith carefully laid a hand on his uninjured shoulder “At least use one of the bathing chambers here to get cleaned up. I will watch him until you return.” Almost apathetic, he could feel himself nodding. Now that the adrenaline and rage was used up, his brain began to reflect the events of the last days. Images of dead soldiers paired with Tinker’s screams flitted through his mind.

After a long assessing look towards his sleeping beloved, he let himself being led away by one of the nurses. They showed him to an empty room with a large stone bath tub and quietly left with the promise to bring some new clothes.

Slowly, he unhooked the quiver and his belt, sending it and his weapons clattering on the floor. He knew they would be stained red if he cared to look but didn’t bring himself to face any more of the blood. His uniform, or the torn pieces that remained of it followed suit, pooling around his legs in a mess of blue, brown and red.

To his surprise, he found that the water had been warmed to a comfortable temperature. The warmth soothed his sore muscles even though the added oils stung in his wounds. Runaan didn’t let himself enjoy the comfort for any longer than he needed to wash the blood and dirt from his skin for he was sure he’d fall asleep in the bathtub otherwise.

Once he was done, the water had lost its translucent quality, now tinted a dark red. Apparently, a nurse had been there because his old clothes were nowhere to be found and there was a pile of fresh garments waiting for him. The Assassin was eternally grateful for the discreetness with which the nurses treated their patients as he wasn’t in the right mind to talk to somebody right now. Outside the door was the nurse who guided him earlier and motioned for him to follow her once more. They led him to another room with a white clothed table in the middle and several shelves of herbs and potions along the walls. “I will just tend your wounds. It will only take a few moments. Please take a seat.” She motioned for him to sit on the table and began to rummage through the drawers until she returned to his side with a tray of cloth stripes and a strongly smelling liquid. “This is to prevent infection.” She explained and waited for him to nod before continuing “It will sting a little but only for a few minutes.” He nodded again and lifted the wide linen shirt he was wearing at her bidding. Runaan was glad that the female elf didn’t try to begin a conversation with him. Every once in a while she would point at something or explain what she was doing but she never seemed to expect an answer from him. It took longer than he had thought seeing that she had to leave twice for new bandages but after a while, she finally nodded with a small smile. “There. You are done.”

“Thank you.” He managed, not more than a whisper. Her smile widened a little and she reached out to squeeze his hand “Your welcome. Ask for Mina should you need anything else.” Runaan nodded, trying to force her name into his hazy memory. “Thank you Mina. I will try to remember.”

“Come on” she motioned to the door “I will bring you to your friend.” Slowly steadying himself with one arm braced against the table he started to object “He’s not…” but the friendly nurse cut him off with a knowing smirk “Oh I know exactly what he is to you. I’m not blind like the others.”

“But…” he tried again, only to be silence by a gesture of her hand “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” 

Back in Tinker’s room, he found his weapons leaning against the wall, now completely rid of any blood. Varou still sat next to the bed, watching his student intently before turning to look at him. “You look better.” Runaan nodded, even though he felt considerably worse, taking a seat on the stool next to him. “How long?” he asked and fixed his gaze on the up and down of Tinker’s chest to remind him that his beloved was in fact, still alive and relatively well. “Not long, they said. He should awake in the next few hours.” Runaan nodded again, reaching out to grasp the sleeping elf’s hand.

They sat in silence for almost an hour before he could feel Varou fidgeting beside him “How did you get him out?” A sigh escaped the Assassins lips as he slouched even further in his seat, burying his hand in his hands. “You don’t want to know.” He didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to see all those dead eyes staring back at him. Varou nodded carefully, not prodding further “That bad, huh?” a large calloused hand reassuringly patted his back and Runaan released another shuddering breath “Worse. So much worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice that I skipped some time with this chapter but don't worry, I will get to what happened in between later, you will see.


	7. The Aftermath

Tinker awoke to darkness. Everything around him was dulled and strangely slow. His eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar room where he was covered in pristine white sheets. He tried to lift his head to look around but a bright pain in his shoulder kept him glued to the soft mattress. Immediately, someone grabbed his hand and ran soothing circles over his palm. Tink opened his mouth to say something though he was shushed by a familiar voice almost momentarily. “It’s okay, we are back home. You are with the healers, but they say it will get better soon.”

A concerned looking face framed with long white hair appeared in his view. The teal eyes seemed to assess him thoroughly before Runaan faintly nodded to himself. “Naan…” the smith started but was instantly interrupted again. “Do you remember what happened?”

The question sent him drowning in a flood of memories that suddenly appeared in his consciousness, dragging him down with them and back into the human dungeons and their horrible methods. With a sharp gasp, Tinker shot up into a sitting position only to curl in on himself straight away. He couldn’t suppress the hiss that escaped his lips at the throbbing ache which bloomed in the general area of his ribs. The Assassin gently, if firmly, pushed him back down and fixed the blankets in place. “So, I take it you do. I need you to tell me everything you know about the human stronghold and it’s defences.”

“Why?” Tinker hated how gravelly his voice sounded but was glad all the same that it didn’t fail him at all. “Your rescue was, let’s say, a difficult situation. I could convince the council to launch a rescue mission but only if there was a real chance to bring you back. Otherwise I was to leave you there.” He noticed how Runaan’s voice changed from concerned to somewhat pained. The little creases he’d come to know as worry lines appeared on the other’s forehead, disturbing the stern features.

“I take it the chances weren’t good then?” In truth he didn’t need to ask the look on the Assassin’s face already told him enough. “I did get you out, didn’t I?” a slight smirk appeared in the corner of his mouth but quickly vanished as Runaan straightened in his seat. Just now, Tink realized he wore the ceremonial armour that classified him as second in command of the Assassin’s squadron. An uncommon choice for a hospital visit. His musings were interrupted as the tall elf spoke once again, voice now matter-of-factly. “You could say the casualties were high enough that the council decided my rescue attempt wasn’t as safe a bet as I tried to make them believe. They want to debrief thoroughly today to determine whether I went against their orders. It would help me to build a case should you remember anything specific that could aid us in coming missions besides the obvious holes in defence I used to get in.”

“Did you get injured?” the thought suddenly crossed his mind as he continued to take in the other’s appearance. Tinker could see him moving a little stiffer than usual and several bandages peaked out under the layered cloth and armour. “Don’t lie to me.” He added before the Assassin could answer him. What followed was a long but very detailed list of injuries, sorted from worst to most shallow that he rattled down like a grocery list. The smith felt a sensation between worry and amusement at the unconcerned display. At his request the other even opened his tunic and showed him the neatly wrapped injuries on his upper body. Seemingly satisfied, Tink sank back into his pillow and thought about the question he’d asked. “I couldn’t really get a glimpse of the defence mechanisms, but I am sure I could draw you an accurate map of the parts of the castle they took me to. They dragged me around a lot because their lieutenant wanted to talk to me a few times.”

The statement got him a wide-eyed look from his counterpart. “How long would that take you? Approximately?”

He shrugged, abandoning the motion halfway through. “Maybe ten, twenty minutes? Depending on ho detailed you need it.” In a flurry of dark blue cloth and white hair, Runaan rushed to the door. “Let me just get parchment. Think about anything else you can remember while I’m gone.”

The Assassin returned shortly after with charcoals and s couple of large paper sheets. “I have an hour before I need to make my appearance at the council. Please try to remember as much as you can.”

Tink started to sketch out the lower level of the castle right away, working his way to the top and the towers sheet per sheet. The humans had brought him to almost every part of the stronghold since he was questioned by different people and they moved him around a lot presumably to make it harder for him to escape. At the same time, they had given him access to the majority of chambers and hallways. He was careful to only draw the parts he was sure that were there and added the things he assumed to be bordering the areas he’s been in with thinner doted lines. “How can you remember the layout so well?” Runaan had been quiet for the most part of the last twenty minutes, simply watching him with increasing interest. “I walked some of the way…” he then pointed at the hallways they used to get out. “…but I couldn’t for the life of me draw a whole layout of the place. Sure, I could find the way we went but the map you drew is just huge.”

Finishing off the last hallways, the smith returned the charcoals and pushed his hair back with his uninjured arm. The chuckle of his boyfriend told him he’d probably been leaving coal streaks on his face in the process. “I don’t know. I just need to see things once to remember them good enough to sketch them afterwards. Varou says it’s called an eidetic memory.”

“Well, it’s an exceptional skill and will probably safe my Job.” With that, the long-haired elf stood up from his seat on the edge of the cot and began to collect the various parchments strewn around them. Some of them also showed mechanical sketches of the human’s catapults and other weaponry where they had been stationed inside the fortress.

Just as he’d gathered everything, Tink could see Varou stepping through the door. The old elf looked exhausted but all the while happy to see him. “I will be back as soon as I can.” Runaan stated and exchanged a few whispered words with his mentor before walking out the door with long, purposeful strides.

“How are you feeling?” Varou took a seat where the Assassin had sat just moments ago and mustered him with the same assessing glance the other had used before. “I’m okay, I guess. The shoulder and my ribs hurt but Runaan said it will probably heal completely.”

“You know, that was not what I meant. Are you okay? Your boyfriend didn’t really talk about much. The nurse had to practically drag him from your bedside and pin him down afterwards to stitch him up. Otherwise I’m sure I could have scraped him from the floor due to the blood loss a couple hours later. Stubborn bastard you got there.” Somehow the statement sounded almost endearing. Tink was sure he liked Runaan even though the smith like to play protective of him.

“I’m not fine but I will get there in time. Sadly, my memory is excellent. How badly was he hurt? When I asked before I just got a list of injuries but that doesn’t really tell me anything besides the fact that half of his skin must have been peeled off by blades.”Varou chuckled a little, glad that his apprentice apparently managed to keep his humour despite the near-death experience.

“This may sound harsh but compared to him you looked peachy and you were the unconscious one. Though I must say the poker face he’s got going on is impressive. Half of the people probably didn’t realise he had more than a few scratches. Given the state of both your clothes it was really hard to tell whose blood it was though. I his case I would guess most of it was human. The dual swords were practically re-coloured. Can you tell me how that happened?” Tink had to shake his head. He’d only been present for a small part of the fighting. “Not really, no. He told me to climb down the castle wall so I didn’t really see anything. I used the time he needed to catch up to heal a few of my wounds.”

“That probably saved your life. The healers said you wouldn’t have made it far with the scars they found. Good thing your magic is that efficient.” He added some stories from the shop after that and Tink could feel him trying to change the subject. Glad of the diversion, he listened to the gossip and occasionally asked for more information.

After a while, their conversation came to halt once Varou finished his report of the new things he’d made in his absence. “I’m glad you made it back.” He took Tinkers hand in his calloused ones and looked him in the eye before continuing. “Both of you.”  

His throat tightened at that and he felt tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision. “So am I.”

“Do you think he will be okay?” Varou had to think of the devastated figure he’d witnessed in his workshop before Runaan ran off on this suicide mission and the change he went through while stepping through the door of his shop on the way out. From panicked, emotional wreck to composed general, although he did see the mask cracking ever so slightly as they bid their goodbyes. Then, when the Assassin returned with his apprentice that the old elf loved like a son, he’d looked like the raging fury still lurked beneath his skin and just waited to break through. His tone had been sharper, more commandeering than usual as Runaan had called for a healer, a hint of panic carrying in his voice. The main reason he had helped to clear path wasn’t his concern for their speedy arrival, the long-haired elf had been almost running, but the safety of his fellow elves shouldn’t they manage to free the way fast enough.

The Adrenaline down once they’d carried Tinker to the healers was concerning to say the least. He had to refrain himself from jumping up and out of his seat every time the other stumbled because he was afraid to startle Runaan, who then looked like a cornered animal.

“I’m not sure.”  

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started another Tinkaan story on my tumblr rumowrites called Defectum so feel free to head over there and check it out. It will probably be some time before I publish it here.


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